One Word for 2015

1 The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; 

2 to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; 

3 to grant to those who mourn in Zion- to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified. 

Isaiah 61:1-3

From Happily Ever After - Walking with peace and courage through a year of divorce

God didn't create women to be wilted or weak. Our gender has a bizarre tendency to minimize our needs and to belittle our own glory. Why do we play down? To make ourselves less threatening? To whom? Why do we equate this minimization with accessibility? We are not making others more comfortable by playing small. In fact, we are sending the message to others that they need to play down, too. I am not encouraging pridefulness but to be authentic by sharing the gift of our true selves.

Our strength is desperately desired. Our beauty is sorely absent when we stifle it. Our unique offerings are missed when we hide.

We were created by the Lord to display His splendor! 

Root yourself as a creation in Christ. Align yourself to assure the nutrients and sunshine you require to grow into the majestic, powerful beauty God intended.

I spent 2014 defining a path of happiness as my word 'happy' became more ironic when one looked closely at what was going on in my life. What does happy look like when you're broken and you need to start over? How can you be happy when those you love are hurting? Is being happy selfish? Is the joy of the Lord really available to me? Who knew being happy was such hard work! I learned that God is seeking to help me find true happiness in my gifts, my family, my work, my relationships, and in giving love even when it costs me. Happiness is given by my Jesus, and he has afforded me the ability to tap into joy through physical activity, work, friendships, serving, and being blessed by others. It was a good year to be focused on 'happy' as it kept me from falling victim to the lie that I was damaged and would never fully recover.

My One Word for 2015 is 'new'. This past year was filled with first's. The first time I handled all my vehicle repairs by myself. The first time to drive a moving truck and set up house just for me and my kids. The first time I went camping with my children all on my own. First time planning birthday's, Thanksgiving, and Christmas separately from my in-law family. It was tougher than I thought and felt scary a lot of the time. I second guessed myself and had to retrain my brain to seek different support networks and ask for help when before I had not. It has been humbling, overwhelming, and expensive. But God has been faithful, friends and family supportive, my church amazing, and my kids resilient. I am happy!:) 

Now I need to embrace the newness of my life. This is my new life.

In my new life, I walk to work and to the store; I try not to drive my van unless I have to. I live in a rented house; which is actually nice, as when there are problems with things in the house, someone else pays for it and fixes it. I don't obsess about the cleanliness of my kitchen. I can go to bed when the dishes aren't clean and not worry about. I don't really cook. I make food as necessary and we eat a lot of leftovers. Everyone is still happy and no one is hungry. In my new life, I eat less meat. Really. I eat salad every day. I stay up late and always have a couple of drinks before bed... maybe not a good habit to have formed, but I'm not worried about it. In my new life I dance. I love to dance and I don't care that I'm old. I watch TV... maybe something I could switch to reading. I have been reading less, but that is because I used to read to escape. I need to find a reason to read for enjoyment again. I joined a support group. I make decisions based on what God wants (which currently leaves me waiting, a bit frustrating) and what is best for my children... but sometimes, I just do what I think will be fun! I do laundry when it's convenient, vacuum when it's dirty, take up the whole bed when sleeping, decorate how I want, buy clothes when I feel like it, get friends gifts, talk loud, laugh loud, watch YouTube, always have money on my Starbucks card, and sing in the van with my daughter. I can come home late and no one is mad. I can leave for a trip without over planning my exit, and come home with no one telling me what I did wrong while I was gone. I do my devotions daily and enjoy spending time pouring over scripture. I sit with my kids and we passionately discuss faith, the Bible, Godly behaviour and challenging issues; then we pray. In my new life, we are not quiet. We play the music loud and we yell at each other - and no one gets too mad about it.

My new life is just beginning. Even though I still feel an emptiness that would consume me if not for Jesus guarding my heart, I am excited about what is ahead. 

I want to embrace what is ahead and really see that it is new. God is not done moulding me into who I will be and what he will do through me and in me. I want to have a changed attitude about this newness, to be happy in the circumstance I find myself in, and to surrender myself to Jesus in becoming new.

18 "Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. 

19 Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. 

Isaiah 43:18-19

New. The old is gone, the new has come. All this is from God. (2 Corinthians 5:17-18)

Mine, by Amanda Pell

People make a big deal about eyes
but it was really the wrinkle in his forehead that caught me
as he fumbled to write down his number.

We fell in love like children running downhill:
wind whipping past, parading each other to our friends,
to the sky, to the old couples we imagined as our future selves.

When he moved in, I swore he fused with the house.
I could hear his sigh in the hum of my ceiling fan
I could taste him in my coffee
And anyone could see him in my poetry.

The grooves in his palm spoke of tragedies.
A frayed lifeline spread to the pinky-tip
I traced along those calloused patches
and kissed the scars on his knuckles

When you love hard enough, you can embrace those scars
And when you love long enough you excuse or even ignore
almost imperceptible changes in the terrain:
when he gripped me a bit tighter a bit more often
when “how are you?” became “where were you?”

In college I learned that in World War I,
soldiers rarely wrote about their misery.
They were living a new kind of nightmare,
so what good were the same old words and metaphors?

Poets died in those trenches.
I thought of them as I tiptoed
around the landmines that littered our home.
When you live in a battlefield,
where do you find energy to pick up a pen?

Like a numbed soldier I lived from moment to moment,
and when the moments were sweet
(and many were) I savored them
Because nothing tastes as good as hope

Because even on the bad days
when it seemed an eyelash could set him off
when he threatened to leave the apartment or this world
still each night he would murmur into my ear
that these were the natural ups and downs of love.

But there is nothing natural about war.
He was my comrade, sinking into the trenches,
grasping at my face, my arm, my collar bone
I wanted to rescue him
If that meant bearing his blows
and his slurred insults, I would do it
If I could’ve swallowed his sadness, I would have.

My friends considered me M.I.A., but I reported for duty every day
and would’ve marched unto death if she hadn’t made me listen.
In that moment I realized I wasn’t his comrade but a prisoner of his war
And after two years and seven months, I finally made a break for it.

Some nights I find myself clicking through old memories.
I marvel at the smiles and the closeness
and realize that these are the images
which remain with me most vividly.
When time has had its way with me,
has softened the edges of my memory,
I’m afraid I’ll only remember his charms:
the crook of his arm, the way he said “hey baby.”
I’m afraid I’ll miss these ideas of him.

But then I remember those poets
and how long they lived in those trenches
and the mornings I spent crying into my breakfast
And now when I pick up my pen
it is heavy, but it is firm.
I lean into it like a staff as I tread the ground
that hardened beneath me the moment I let you go.
The ink smudges my hands like war paint
I am bruised from battle, but I am not a casualty of his war
I am free. I am free. I am mine.

Abuse is not what you think.

One Word for 2014

Don't make New Year's resolutions, instead choose one word to focus on for the whole year. http://oneword365.com/

Last year I worked on my attitude and asked Jesus to help me become intentional about my attitude, knowing he would show up when I least expected him to. I hadn't lost hope in Him; but my attitude was limiting what I would allow him to do in me. It was a good word for me and I kept it on my mind all year, but I think my attitude was not necessarily improved but watched. I don't know if it got better, but it did get paid attention to. I was constantly made aware that I needed to check my attitude and be sure it was aligned with how Christ wanted me to be thinking and feeling. It was a good exercise for an entire year.

It was a good enough exercise that I decided to do it again. This year the word that God chose for me seems very hard to understand in light of what I am going through. The word is happy. Yes, happy. This word has been one of my most hated words in the past. I realize now it is because I have not been happy for a long time. I used to think being happy was bad. Yeah, that sounds ridiculous. But when you are not happy, convincing yourself that happiness is not good seems like a good idea. I was instead searching for joy. What I have discovered is that joy and happiness are actually linked. Who would've thought.

Well, I found a verse to go with my word.
Proverbs 15:13
A happy heart makes the face cheerful;
but heartache crushes the spirit.

How true that has been for the past decade or so of my life. I want to start this new journey in search of true happiness in Jesus. So this year, despite my grief and the huge changes that are causing all kinds of struggle, I am going to be happy.

Just as the song lyrics say, "if you feel that happiness is the truth..." It is the truth... and it took me too long to figure that out.
Jesus said `These things I have spoken to you that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.` John 15:11

Jesus wants me to experience his joy as I walk with him in obedience and abide in him finding that happiness in him and nothing else. So ultimately, ... bring me down, can`t nothing, HIS love is too high.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6Sxv-sUYtM&list=FL5a8dnKPDch7mWOLUnodkOA&index=13

Separated

I am separated. Yup, since Dec. 30, 2013. Divorce is that ugly thing that I never wanted anything to do with, but now, I am waiting for its arrival. Adultery, more than once... can I even believe anything he says... no I can't. Abuse for years that I never recognized as such.... I thought I was married to a troubled man who needed my understanding. All the dreams of a marriage that glorifies God are gone from me. I have no hope that it can be healed, fixed, redeemed, forgiven, or started again. My family is torn apart and even though I know that I cannot nor do I want to go back, I am grieving. My children are grieving. Go back to what I ask? To the way it was... the way it was. It was hard, sprinkled with blessings of children, camping, new homes and jobs, God's timing, and windows of hope. I seemed to find those windows of hope all the time over these past 20 years. I wanted to do what Jesus wanted me to do, despite my unhappiness. Why? Why did God always show me a window and give me strength to keep going? Why so long in this darkness with the only windows coming out of such great pain? I remember praying for relief, praying for joy, praying for safety, praying for some peace; praying that I would be able to do better, that he would do better. There were nights of praying and crying when he wasn't home, didn't come home, came home so late, when he was angry, distant or depressed. It was as if my prayers were willing him to somehow be where he was supposed to be, do what he was supposed to do. I had so much hope then. Hope that I could endure and that all would be made right. Then there were times of just accepting and it seemed that it would all just roll along fine. I loved those times, when it all seemed like it would be OK. When I could relax and be myself; when the kids were free to falter, when the laughter seemed easy to come and the arguments few. We had those times... but I never knew when they would end. Always such an abrupt ending too. They would just be gone and I would take the blame for their absence. I could create those times with careful planning and careful appeasing and putting my head in the sand.

Lately, I had prayed for an escape. I was charged with energy, with righteous anger when it all became clear. When I knew what I had to do... the adrenalin rushed through me for weeks. But that is gone. Now I am just faced with the task of preparing, separating, day to day tasks, and filled with anxiety that I will lose it. I cannot stop praying for my children. I cannot stop thinking about all that is lost.

Words from my pastor; It's OK for me to say I can't. This has been killing me.

Verses that are encouraging me.

Isaiah 45:2-3

“I will go before you and level the exalted places, I will break in pieces the doors of bronze and cut through the bars of iron, I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name."

The treasures of this darkness are yet to be seen. The greatest treasure of darkness was Jesus death on the cross; for out of that came his resurrection, our resurrection, and our salvation.

Jeremiah 18:1-6

The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: “Arise, and go down to the potter's house, and there I will let you hear my words.” So I went down to the potter's house, and there he was working at his wheel. And the vessel he was making of clay was spoiled in the potter's hand, and he reworked it into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to do.

Then the word of the Lord came to me: “O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter has done? declares the Lord. Behold, like the clay in the potter's hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.

The pot was spoiled in the hands of the potter. I have never been out of God's hand. I have been marred in this marriage for God's purpose and He will rework me, my life, my children, into another vessel, as he sees best.

2 Timothy 4:16-18

At my first defense no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me. May it not be charged against them! But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion's mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil deed and bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

My little sister had this underlined with my name by it dated 2009. God is so smart, she said. He has saved me and given me what I need this time around for my rescue to be sure.

I needed to write this out finally.
I can forgive, but I cannot live with him again. I want my children to be able to forgive, to have a relationship with their dad, but I worry about that.
I have been discarded and I am damaged.
I am grieving and waiting for healing.
I know that my healing has already begun... but I do not know where any of this will take me.
What plan does God have for me now?